Page 123 of Muddy Messy Love

My heart wails in agony, and a yelp bursts from my mouth like someone kicked a dog. Tears flood my eyes, but my blood simmers to a raging boil. “How can you say that to me? It’s not normal to say that to your own kid. Why do you hate me so much? Are you jealous? Is that it?”

“How dare you,” she seethes.

“How dareyou! I was doing fine before you returned. I was making progress—building a life for myself—and you’ve waltzed back in to fuck everything up.”

Her eyes spit venom, and a low, patronising chuckle rattles through her chest. “You found a rich dick to ride, and now you think you’re all grown up. It will end soon enough. Mark my words.”

Her cruelty steals my breath as her words obliterate my soul. Only adrenaline keeps me upright—mentally, I’m dying on the floor. As tears fall from my chin, slowly I shake my head. “No wonder Dad killed himself. I would too if I was married to you.”

The slap comes in the blink of an eye, and I gasp, cupping my stinging cheek. It was a low blow on my part, one I immediately regret. That is, until Mum delivers worse. “You’re the reasonhe killed himself, you entitled brat. Not me. Helovedme. Heforgaveme. It’s you who broke his heart.”

My brows screw up. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Mum’s eyes widen for a beat, and a flicker of panic washes over her face, but her combat mask swiftly returns, and she clenches her jaw. “Forget it.”

I take one step closer and glare down at her, feeling the power Sergeant Nile must have felt when he towered over me that night. “No.” A humourless laugh leaves my throat. “You tell me how a ten-year-old girl is the reason her dad committed suicide.” It’s a dare. I want her to say it out loud and hear the flaws in her fucked-up logic.

Mum’s shoulders rise and fall with rapid, shallow breaths, but she meets my fiery gaze with ice. “I suppose it’s time you knew the truth.”

“What are you talking about?” A sense of doom seeps into the room like poisonous gas, and I clench my trembling hands into fists to control them. Every primal instinct tells me to flee—now—and fast. If I did, I’d still make the tram to work. But for some reason, my feet won’t fucking move. They’re frozen.

Mum must sense it too, because she shifts back to the sofa and resumes her seat, smoothing out her frazzled hair. Leaning back, she crosses her legs and perches her hands on her knee, one above the other. Then her chin does that defiant little nudge. “Nineteen years ago, I had an affair. It was the biggest mistake of my life, and you are the result.”

My feet unglue without warning, and I stumble back a few steps as if I’ve been shot, colliding with the arm of the sofa. My mind spins on hyperdrive, trying to make sense of what she said, but only one logical conclusion appears. “Bullshit.” Dad loved me. Dad was kind to me. He read me passages of poetry and sang me to sleep every night. I was his. I was more his than I’ve ever been anyone’s. Until Cole.

“Why would I lie?” Mum asks.

“To hurt me. Why else?”

“Think, Avery Lee. You look nothing like him.”

“I look like you.” My voice comes out squeaky and pathetic, but as the words leave my lips, I remember the oddities. My cherry chin to their clefts. My Nordic-pale hair. Sans bleach, Mum’s a dirty blonde, and Dad was dark as midnight. Why am I so fair? And my hairline is flat. I always wanted a cool vampire-esque widow’s peak like the three of them.

“Same with Bethany. You two hardly pass as sisters.”

Beth resembles Dad. I look like Mum. That makes sense, goddamn it.

I shuffle around the arm of the sofa, using it to keep my jellified body upright, then sit back down. It feels like planet earth was just thrown off its axis, and the cells in my body shriek as they’re flung into walls, scrambling to find purchase. And my head… A gazillion thoughts and questions cram towards the exit, causing them all to get stuck in one almighty jam.

God, is this really happening?

I pinch my wrist hard, praying I don’t feel the sting. But I do. Loud and clear. This is real. As real as it fucking gets.

Tears flow down my cheeks, bleeding into the fabric of my jeans. I swipe them away and shake my head. Even if this tragic bombshell is true—one thing definitely isn’t. I glance up at Mum. “Dad adored me. I never broke his heart. He didn’t—” I swallow “—leavebecause of me.” Until today, I’ve never uttered Dad’s official cause of death aloud, and I never want to again. It’s too grimy and black for a gentle giant who smiled like he was made of sunshine.

“At least he waited until Bethany was an adult,” Mum points out. “Face it, Avery Lee, he couldn’t stand to look at you. Every time he did, he felt pain. How could he not?”

My throat catches as I swallow, feeling like it’s full of sticky, hot marbles. “In what backwards world is that my fault and not yours?”

“He forgave me!” Mum says, poking her chest. The finger turns. “Butyouwouldn’t let him forget.Youwere a walking reminder that tortured him every day.”

Holy fucking shit. Can this woman hear herself? Does she actually believe that’s true? Do I? I wish Beth were here to intervene with clarity and common sense.

I stiffen.Beth.

My head snaps up. “Does Beth know?”

Mum’s chin rises again, and the urge to squeeze the life from her elegant neck tingles in my fingertips. “She knows.”

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